Supposedly, Hemingway once wrote a story in six words: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." I'm no Hemingway, but I dig the idea of ultra-short stories.
I write them from time to time. You might like some. You can find me on Twitter at @dcwllms.

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

969. In among the dillweeds

After so long, the garden had swallowed up the yard, creeping eventually to the tiny strip of grass on the other side of the sidewalk.This created a vague notion of a miniature jungle smelling of a spice cupboard.It gave the abandoned thises and thats in the yard a real Hollywood-end-of-the world feel.Near the carport, tendrils snaking out from some kind of squash quietly choked a hobby horse.